


Among the Poppies

by MerHums



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Canon-Typical Violence, Developing Relationship, Dom/sub Undertones, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Mention of Mary/John, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-17
Updated: 2017-07-17
Packaged: 2018-12-03 05:21:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11525403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MerHums/pseuds/MerHums
Summary: In the war there was John and James, together. A unit. A commanding officer and his soldier. But there is more than one kind of battle, and as time passes, they find each other once more.





	Among the Poppies

John adjusted his uniform and knocked on the door of his new commanding officer’s office. He was relatively young to be this qualified of a doctor, but they’d needed someone and so here he was. He’d already done one tour and seen some of the worst of the fighting.

“Come in!”

John opened the door and stepped inside. “Captain Watson reporting for duty, sir.” John offered his personnel file and a salute. The major looked a bit tired, as major’s often did, but there was something in his eyes.

“At ease. Heard you're coming to join us from front lines, Captain?”

“Yes, sir. You’ll find I have extensive experience.”

“Very good. We need a proper medic.”

“I'm a doctor, sir.”

“Even better, Captain. Let me show you to your quarters, and around the rest of camp.”

“Thank you.”

James stood, towering over John. He gave a brisk nod, and led the way out. 

**

John quickly fell into the routine of the place. Sometimes he felt like his CO was watching him more than was strictly professional, but surely he was imagining it?

After one tough day, and an even tougher night while John fought to save the lives of three men, and failed one, James came to him, finding him in the med bay. “Captain. You need to get to your bunk.”

John finished scrubbing his hands. “I won't be able to sleep.”

“Neither can I. But you need to shower, and at least get out of the med bay. It was a long day, Watson.”

John rolled his eyes. “Fine. Yes, sir.”

“Was that attitude, Watson?” 

“No, sir,” John turned away to dry his hands, too tired to deal with this right now. 

James put a hand on his shoulder. “Watson,” he said quietly, just resting his hand there. “You did what you could.”

John leaned into his touch, ever so slightly. “Thank you, sir.”

James nodded, and guided him out of the room, and to the showers. “Can you manage this on your own?”

John swallowed and stole a glance. “Would you like to help me?”

James remained quiet, but stripped off his top, leaning in to start the water. 

John closed his eyes as James undressed him, letting the taller man’s hands ghost along his skin. It was something he’d imagined in the small hours of the night, but he’d thought it would never stay more than a dream.

James steered John under the water, taking up the soap. “Hands,” he said quietly. 

John opened his eyes again and offered them to him.

James very carefully cleaned between his fingers, under his nails, soaping up to his wrists. “Rinse.” 

John obeyed, shivering despite the warm air.

“Turn.” James started to soap John’s back, running the sponge over his spine. 

John tried to bite back a moan at James hands on his body. It had been so long since anyone had treated him gently.

“Shh,” James murmured, hands gliding over John’s hips. 

John leaned forward against the rough wall in front of him.

James knelt down, ignoring the water seeping into his trousers, and washed John’s legs. “Finished now. Just the front.”

Swallowing, John turned around, watching James with dark eyes, knowing his interest was obvious.

James stood very slowly, reaching out to turn John’s head to the side, getting a bit of soot and ash that John must have missed on his neck. 

John bit his lip, revelling in the soft touch.

James washed down John’s neck to his chest, then his thighs, careful and gentle. “There. You're done. Back to your bunk now, Captain.”

“Yes, sir,” said John quietly, opening his eyes and swallowing.

James met his gaze, and then reached out taking a towel from the nearby shelf, wrapping it around John. 

John accepted it. “Thank you, sir.”

James nodded, and set his hand on John’s shoulder again, then turned, heading out. He paused at the door. “If you find...you can’t sleep. You can come speak with me. I’ll be awake.” He waited a beat longer, then stepped out. 

“Sir,” said John quietly to his retreating form. He reached for his clothes, uncertain.

He went back to his room and lay there for a few long minutes. Finally though, he got tired of staring at the ceiling and slipped out to see James.

James was sitting at his desk when John stepped in his doorway. “Captain,” he said quietly, not looking up. “Would you like a drink?” 

“Thank you, sir.”

James got the bottle, and two glasses, pouring them each some whiskey. He set the glass in front of John, gesturing to the seat across from his desk. 

John sat and sipped his whiskey, letting it relax him.

James finished up the paper work he was doing, and set it aside in a drawer, then picked up his own tumblr. “Tell me about yourself, Watson,” he said, finally looking up at him. 

“Not much to tell, sir. I was noticed for my intelligence, got a doctor’s education in exchange for my military service.”

“Family waiting for you back home?” 

“Not really sir. Just me and my sister these days, and we aren’t really speaking. You?”

“No.” James took another sip. “Just me.” 

“Unattached then, like me.”

“Yes.” 

John looked up and met his eyes, just for a moment. “Good.”

James held his gaze for that moment, taking another sip of his drink before setting the glass down with a quiet clink. He stood, and went over to the door, easing it shut. 

John licked his lips, heart hammering in his chest. As James turned around he slipped to his knees before the older man.

James blinked in surprise, and reached forward, running his hand through John’s hair. “Watson.”

“Sir,” said John quietly, leaning into the touch, hoping he wasn’t wrong in the way he was reading this.

James nodded, and pushed John’s head back, hand twined in his short hair. “Look at me.” 

John looked up at him, mouth gone dry as he looked into the blue eyes of his CO.

“Come to bed, John. We both need rest.” James caressed his face, keeping John’s gaze. 

“Yes, sir,” he said softly.’

James took John by the arm and lifted him up, steering him over to his bed. He pushed John to sit, and then stepped back, taking off his uniform. 

John reached for his own buttons as he watched him.

Leaving his vest and boxers, James folded the clothes and set them on the chair, then turned to John again. “Let me,” he said, reaching out to take care of John’s buttons. 

Letting his hands drop, John watched him, admiring James’s strong body.

“John...I would like to take care of you,” James said softly. 

“I would like that very much, sir.”

James nodded, and pushed John’s shirt off, then knelt down, untying his boots. 

“You’re a good man, sir.”

James looked up at him, and leaned in, pressing his lips to John’s knee. “Lay down,” he said softly. 

John lay back. It had been so long since anyone had treated him gently, he thought again. He found himself anticipating, even as he watched.

James turned off the light, and slipped into bed with him, laying in the dark beside John. 

John reached out in the dark and ran his hand along James’s cheek.

James turned to him, and carefully gathered John in his arms. “Do you want to talk now?” he asked. 

“I could. Do you?”

“It’s hard, losing a man. I was writing a letter to his family when you came in,” James said. “But I know you must be feeling some kind of the same.” He shifted, settling his chin atop John’s head. “And I want to make sure you’re all right.” 

“It’s part of war. I know I can’t save everyone. And even if I couldn’t save him, I saved the other two.”

“That’s right.” James slowly ghosted his hand over John’s side. “And it’s not your fault.” 

“It’s not yours either, sir.”

“I know that. And because I know, that’s the only reason I’m able to stay in command.”

“May I ease your mind?”

“Yes.” James shifted, and carefully pressed their lips together, kissing John.

John moaned softly.

“Will you do something for me?” James asked. 

“Anything, sir.”

“Let me...take care of you. Let me have you. Trust me.”

“I…. I would like that. I’ve been taking care of myself for a long time.”

“I won’t hurt you,” James said, shifting so he was resting above John, propped on his elbows. 

“I know. And.. however little time we have together, I’d be delighted to share it with you.”

“Yes.” James kissed John again, hand slipping between them to take John’s cock. 

John moaned and relaxed, trusting James with all his heart, body and mind.

**

Careful, and silent, John and James grew closer, knowing that whatever they had had to be hidden. They had a few nights to spend together, and one weekend of leave that they spent in bed and far away from base in the sun. The others noticed they’d grown close, it was hard not to when James suddenly smiled, or when John started joining him to eat, but no one said a word. They all understood, or if they didn’t, didn’t mind.

But like most things, it couldn’t last.

John was out on mission with half a dozen other soldiers. It was another day, another mission, moving along the edge of a village. And then hell broke lose. John moved automatically as he saw one of his men fall, leaning over him to tend the wound, when suddenly a crack cut the air and he twisted. John was marginally aware that a bullet had avoided his armor and entered his shoulder from the back, exploding outward as he fell.

**

“Watson. Wake up for me. Watson. You’re in medical. Wake up, but don’t move.” 

John’s eyes flew open, locking onto the worried eyes of his commander. Not dead then, but, he obeyed the command to be still.

“They’re flying you out in the next twenty minutes. Can you understand what I’m saying?” James asked. “You’re on morphine.” 

John gave a small nod.

James relaxed slightly, the utter fear in his eyes dimming just enough. “You're going home, Watson. You’ll be fine.” He carefully reached out, gently cupping John’s cheek. “Let them take care of you, all right? No fighting it.”

John gave another nod, trying to speak, but then he was slipping back into darkness. 

James stepped back as John’s eyes closed, and nodded. “All right,” he snapped, turning to the nurse trying to get him to sit. “It’s not even that bad. Just a broken rib.”

**

“Doctor Watson, you need to push. This is for your own good.” 

John grumbled. He thought he was done with physical therapy. But then, no, all that shit with Mary and he’d wrenched his shoulder saving Sherlock from stumbling into the Thames. He was back at Baker Street, Sherlock was aloof as ever and though he knew the therapist was doing their job he was having very unkind thoughts about them as he did the exercise.

“Come on. Harder. I know you can. Harder. Shove, Doctor.” 

John grunted and shoved as hard as he could.

“Good! Again!”

John went to push, only to look up as one of the other workers called out in shock, a large thud echoing through the room. 

“Major! Please, just try once more! You nearly had it!” 

“I’m leaving. This is a waste.”

John was up in a flash, crossing the room before anyone could stop him. “James?”

James hesitated, turning to face him. “John,” he said, voice soft. 

They were both much older then they had been. There hadn’t been much chance to talk at the wedding, and less after, and James had vanished as quickly as he’d appeared.

John gave him a smile and gestured at the machine he was on. “This one’s a bitch, isn’t it?”

“Yes.” James flexed his hands, hiding them away behind his back. He looked away. “How’s Mary then?” 

John gave a short, bitter, laugh. “Gone.”

James frowned. “So...Sherlock?” 

“Busy, like usual.”

“You two aren’t…” James trailed off. “Never mind,” he said, wetting his lips. “I was going to leave. It was good to see you, Watson.” 

John put a hand on his arm. “I don’t think you’re done, are you?”

James cleared his throat. “From you, that sounds suspiciously like an order.” 

John smirked. “May I help you? Am still a doctor, you know.”

James raised an eyebrow, but gave a sharp nod. “Fine. But the last time I checked, you weren’t a physical therapist.” 

He sent the gaping workers a short look, and they suddenly busied themselves as James went back over to the machine, sitting at the bench. 

“No, but God knows I’ve spent enough time around here.”

James nodded, and reached forward, scarred hands wrapping around the handles. 

John leaned forward and put his hand over James’s to help him.

James smiled, and squeezed, a flicker of pain passing through his eyes though his face remained stoic. 

“Good,” murmured John.

“Talk to me.” James said. “Makes it easier, and I always liked reading your blog.” 

“I’m surprised you get around to reading it.”

“Not much else to do.” 

“I understand.” John talked a bit about their last case, keeping his voice quiet.

By the time they finished, James hands were trembling, but he gave John a small, rare smile. “Thank you for helping, doctor.”

“You’re welcome, sir.” John met his eyes. 

James held his gaze, eyes heavy as he got back his breath. “John. Are you busy tonight?”

“Shouldn’t be, no.”

“Come to my home for dinner.”

“I’d love to. I… have missed your company.”

James nodded. “I'll see you later then? You have the address still?”

“I do. I’ll be there.” John helped him up and watched James stiffly make his way out.

“D..Doctor Watson? Did you want to continue your session now?”

“Yes, Jessica, we can.”

“All right. Um...do you know the major? He doesn't normally speak to anyone. Nicely anyway.”

“He was my commanding officer at one point. Until I got shot.”

“Oh.” Jessica nodded. “Well, Tomas is waiting to finish up.”

**

“Good evening, Doctor Watson.” The maid stepped aside, letting him in the door. 

“Thank you.” John let himself be shown in. The place was relatively austere, as if even here, James would deny himself the simplest pleasures.

“The major is waiting in the dining room. I'll be leaving now. Have a pleasant night.” She turned, pulling on a coat.

John nodded and walked in the direction she pointed. John gave him a smile as he heard the door closed. He didn’t look quite as comfortable in civilian clothes; John could understand that. “Evening.”

“John.” James stood, and pulled out a chair for him. 

John accepted it. “It’s very good to see you.”

“It is. I'm surprised Sherlock didn't come with you.”

“He’s working on some experiment or another. I didn’t ask too many questions.”

“I'm glad, you know. That you have someone.” James turned, getting them drinks.

“Sherlock and I.. it isn’t like that. We’re friends, I think, but nothing more than that. He’s not interested in anything more.”

“Just...the wedding. The way he spoke.” James passed a glass to John. “And the way Mary looked at us both.”

“Were close, James, no denying that. But he’s got no interest in that kind of relationship.”

“I thought that maybe you'd found someone new to take care of you.” James sat down, watching John. 

“No.” John watched him. “Nobody’s taken care of me the way you did.”

“I feel...honored.”

“It's true. And… I've missed you.”

“I've missed you. Missed what we had, and could have had.” James looked down at his plate. “Eat, John.” 

John met his eyes and picked up his fork. “Sir.”

“Good lad.”

John licked his lips and ate.

James watched him, eating his own meal. 

When they finished, John put his fork down. “I could stay the night.”

“Will you?” James asked.

“If you wished me too.”

“I think we'd both like that.” 

John reached out and covered James’s hand with his own. “Let me give you what you need?”

“You know what I need, John.” James turned his hand over, bring John’s up, brushing a kiss over his palm. “Let me take care of you tonight.”

“Please, sir.” John's heart skipped in a way it hadn't for a long time. He got up and knelt before James, resting his head against his thigh. 

James hushed him, stroking his fingers through John’s hair. “Longer than it was then,” he murmured. “Come here. Let me kiss you. Please,” he said, tugging John up to rest in his lap.

John leaned against his shoulder and let James kiss him gently, sighing softly.

“You know, it was only ever you,” James murmured. “There was never anyone else over there.”

“Me either. I was always careful.”

“I was careful. Until you.” James stood, lifting John in his arms, taking him through the halls to the bedroom without a word.

John lay back on the bed as he was settled, looking up at James, seeing the kindness and the desire in his eyes. And oh how he longed to give him what he desired.

James moved to lay next to him, kissing John deeply. 

John groaned, remembering stolen moments, the feel of James’s hands on his body,

“Will you let me take you tonight? We have time now,” James murmured, running his hand over John’s chest. 

“Yes, sir. Please. I… I want you to claim me.”

“I’ll take care of you. My John.” James kissed him, and then shifted, looking down. “You’ll have to...be patient. My hands aren’t what they used to be.” 

“Neither of us are,” he said softly. “And you have all the patience you need.”

James nodded, and lowered his head, fixing his lips onto John’s neck. 

John moaned and ran his fingers through James’s short hair.

“Let me undress you,” James said. “I want to see.” 

“Go ahead.”

James knelt back, carefully removing John’s jumper and shirt, then starting in on his slacks. 

John watched him, feeling himself exposed. There were more scars than when James had seen him last, but it was true for both of them. “Gorgeous,” he murmured.

James frowned, reaching forward and resting his palm over John’s scar. “How long to recuperate?” 

“A month, and then I got an infection and almost died again, so another two months after that. Physical therapy off and on since then.”

Leaning down, James kissed the scar, and then trailed his lips over, kissing down John’s chest. 

John sighed happily, relaxing underneath him.

“Good boy,” James breathed. “Relax. Let me take care of you.”

“Thank you, sir.”

James nuzzled against John’s stomach, stroking his thighs. “You put on weight. I’m glad.” 

“Yeah?”

“Yes. I like your muscles, but this...this means that you’re taking care of yourself. That you’re healthy and safe, and not that worried about how you will feed yourself and about people shooting you every moment.” 

“Life with Sherlock still keeps me on my toes,” smiled John. 

“But not as much.” James kissed his stomach, and then took his cock in hand, stroking it slowly, kissing the tip.

John moaned. “Always loved the way you touched me.”

James smiled, running his lips down the length, nipping gently to watch John’s reaction. 

John gasped, eyes drifting closed. 

“You're mine,” James murmured, then swallowed him down, bringing him to full hardness, remember what he liked. 

John groaned, shivering with need as he grasped the sheets. “Yes…”

James kept going, moaning at the taste and weight of John on his tongue, wanting nothing more than to take him over. 

“Close, sir close.” John tossed his head, hips rocking. 

“Come, soldier. That’s an order.” 

John gasped and came all at once, shuddering and moaning.

James swallowed, licked his lips, and turned his head, marking John’s thigh. “That’s my good boy,” he murmured, raising up and caressing John’s cheek. “That’s it.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“So good. Letting me take care of you,” James praised softly. “You missed this, didn’t you?”

“More then I let myself, realize, sir.” John gave him a sated smile.

James smiled at him, and leaned down for a kiss. “Roll over.” 

John did so, parting his thighs in anticipation.

James reached over, struggling to open the bottle he tugged out. He blew out a frustrated breath, then succeeded. “Sorry,” he murmured. 

“It’s fine. I can get it for you next time, if you’d like.”

James shook his head. “Next time, I’ll just sit back and watch you open yourself, soldier.” 

“Yes, sir.” John got himself settled.

James kissed his shoulder, and pressed slick fingers between John’s cheeks. “How long has it been?” he asked. 

“Since I’ve been with a man?”

“Since someone fucked you,” James breathed, kissing the curve of his ear. 

John groaned. “It’s been years.”

“Are you ready now?” 

“Maybe a little more prep?”

James smiled. “Not what I meant.” He curved his fingers. “I’m not nearly done with this yet. I want you hard and begging first.”

John gasped. “Sir!”

“That’s a good start, soldier.” 

John drew up his legs to spread himself wider.

James hesitated, then gave him a light slap with his free hand. “So needy. That’s what I want.” 

“Yes, sir,” moaned John, rutting slowly against the bed, though he wasn’t hard yet.

“You like that?”

“So much, sir.”

“Good. I want to see how far I can take you, Watson.” James added another finger. “I want to see you fall apart for me.”

“I’m yours.”

“Always. You’re my good boy.” James smiled and kissed his neck. “Aren’t you?” 

“Yes, sir.”

“Ask for me.”

“Take care of me, sir.”

“Again.” James squeezed his hip, pulling his fingers away and reaching in the drawer. 

“Please, sir, take care of me.”

James nodded, and threw a condom down in front of him. “Open it up. Put it on me.” 

John took it. He turned, looked up at James and popped it in his mouth. Out of practice, but he bobbed his head to roll it on.

James groaned, and tugged at his hair. “That’s it, soldier.” 

John kept his mouth around him.

James rolled his hips, thrusting slightly. 

John relaxed his throat to take him deeper.

“Good boy. God, John. You’re perfect for me. Let me hear you.” 

John moaned, drooling a bit around him.

James pulled back, almost harsh. “No more,” he groaned. “Enough. How do you want to take me?” 

“May I ride you?”

“Yes.” James lay back, tugging John with him. 

John moved up and guided James into him with a loud moan.

James watched him, breath catching. “Finally,” he breathed.

“Thank you, sir.”

James gripped John’s hips, wetting his lips. “My John. You always were just perfect.”

John groaned. “Thank you,” he said again.

James rocked up, watching John. “Whatever I can give you, John.”

“You already have.”

James shook his head. “There’s so much more,” he breathed. “So much you don’t know.”

John looked at him with wide eyes. “Sir?”

“There’s so much I can give, John. That I can give to you. We have time now.” 

“I have to help Sherlock. But when I’m not… I can be yours, sir.”

“I want that. I want you.” James tugged John down to his chest for a claiming kiss. “Be mine.”

“Yes, sir. Yes, James.” John kissed him back.

James gave a small growl, rolling them over and pounding into John. “Beg for me.”

“Please, sir. Please fill me.”

James groaned, biting at his shoulder. 

John writhed underneath him, knowing it was what he wanted. 

James came with a harsh cry, slumping over John. 

John moaned, still rutting slowly against the bed, revelling in the sensation.

James rolled over, tugging John with him and reaching down to stroke his cock. “Good boy. Come for me,” he mumbled. 

Wiggling happily, John closed his eyes, letting James bring him over again with a happy sigh.

“That's it,” James kissed his throat. “Yes. Good Soldier. Good.”

“Thank you, sir,” John mumbled.

“You're welcome.” James kissed him again, then rolled out from under him, getting up and going toward the bathroom for a flannel. 

John settled into the covers, sated and comfortable.

James came back out, and wiped him down gently with a damp cloth. “You’ll stay tonight?” he asked, not looking at John.

“Please, may I?”

“Please.” James glanced up, letting his want, his vulnerability show. “Please, my John.”

John leaned up and kissed him gently. 

James sighed, and pulled away, pressing another gentle kiss to John’s throat. “Good night.”

“Good night.” John nuzzled him and fell asleep in his arms. 

James stroked a hand through John’s hair, the younger man snoring lightly on his chest, until he too, fell asleep. 

**

John returned to Baker Street the next morning. 

Sherlock stopped him half in the door. “Where were you? Who is she?”

“He and Major Sholto.”

Sherlock blinked, stepping back. 

“What?”

Sherlock narrowed his eyes. “Sholto,” he spat. “I hope you're not planning to leave and go off with that one too!”

“It’s not like that.”

“Isn't it?” Sherlock snapped.

John regarded Sherlock. “We’re picking up something that we had long ago.”

Sherlock’s eyes widened just slightly, and he blinked again. “Oh. Oh! You’re his-” 

John planted his feet. “His what?”

“Pet,” Sherlock replied, cocking his head. “Boy. He takes care of you. It's more than sentiment, isn't it?” 

“And if I like it?”

“Then that is your own mistake. Don't let it affect the work.” Sherlock sniffed, and wheeled away, muttering. 

John rolled his eyes and went to put the kettle on.

There was a knock at the door a bit later, and Sherlock ignored it, laying on the couch. Whoever it was knocked again, and he growled. “John! Door!”

John wiped his hands and walked over to get it.

“Delivery for a...Mister Watson?”

“That’s me.”

“All right. Here you go.” The man turned, and lifted a long box, setting it inside the door. “Sign please.”

John accepted it. “Thank you.” He took the box and headed up to his room. He smiled as he opened the box and saw that it was poppies, a reminder of wide open fields and fresh water. 

“Sentiment,” Sherlock muttered, lurking in the doorway. He set down a large flask with a clink, and stepped away. 

John gave a shake of his head, but went to fill the flask with water to fill the bouquet. 

**

That evening John went back to James’s, heart speeding as he waiting. 

James opened the door, looking down at John. “Do you remember that day?” He asked softly. 

John nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“Good boy.” James gave a smile, and pulled him inside for a kiss. “I have something else for you tonight.”

**

“John? Come with me for our leave. I am going to show you something. We have a weekend.” 

John looked up from his desk and nodded. “Yes, sir.” He gave a small smile, and James stepped away. 

**

They took a motorcycle from the base, riding away, for what seemed like hours. John’s arms were tight around James’s waist, the wind in his face hot and acrid with the heat of the sand. 

Eventually, James slowed, and John opened his eyes. The mountains that had remained small in the distance were now looming large, and John frowned. “James? Where are we?”

“Just a bit further. It's safe here. Don't worry.”

James parked the bike, helping John off. “Close your eyes. Trust me.” He slipped his hands over John’s eyes, leading him up the hill.

“Ready?” James murmured, pressing his lips just to John’s temple as they slowed. “Look.”

John opened his eyes, blinking at the burst of color and light. “Poppies,” he said, a smile forming. “They're beautiful.”

“Deadly sometimes, other times, used to heal, but beautiful,” James said. “Just like you. My John.” He wrapped his arms around John, both of them drinking in the lake of color around them, the buzzing of the insects and the unwavering heat, even in the shade of the mountains. 

Eventually, they both sank to their knees, the poppies around them rustling, but completely unable to muffle their pleasured cries. 

**

James smiled, trailing his fingers over John’s damp chest. “I'm rather fond of seeing you like this, Watson. And hearing you.”

“I enjoy being yours, sir.”

“When you have your breath back, I want to show you something more.”

John smiled at him. “You have always shown me more, James.” He lifted his head, going in for a gentle kiss. “And I love your more.” With a quiet chuckle, James tugged him down for just that.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! You can find us on AO3 at [Janto321 ](http://archiveofourown.org/users/FaceofMer/)and [HumsHappily](http://archiveofourown.org/users/humshappily) or on tumblr at [merindab ](http://merindab.tumblr.com)(janto321) and [HumsHappily](http://hums-happily.tumblr.com)

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Cover Art for "Among the Poppies"](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11526003) by [HumsHappily](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HumsHappily/pseuds/HumsHappily)




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